Heller
Page 13
“Yeah, but I am babe and that’s all that matters to me,” he threw over his shoulder as he casually sauntered back to the dance floor.
“You fucking cocksucker!” she shrieked at his retreating back. “You motherfucking arse-licker!” She leant back on the wall, petulant. “Let’s go home,” she ordered, pushing past me bad-temperedly.
It took me a while to hail a cab, and as one pulled up I noticed Lily putting her phone back into her bag with a satisfied smile. It reminded me that I hadn’t checked my phone for a while. Oops! Three missed calls from Heller. I hastily rang him in the taxi on our way back to the hotel.
“What have you been doing all night?” he wanted to know.
“Dancing.”
“Who with?”
“Guys.”
A brief silence. “What guys?”
“I dunno. Just guys. In a nightclub. I didn’t ask them their names.”
“Had a good time?”
“Sure,” I lied as I yawned.
“What are you going to do next?”
“Go back to the other suite. Have a shower. Hopefully get some sleep soon.”
“Okay, I’ll check on you later.” Another pause. “Take care, Matilda,” he said softly, before hanging up. I briefly hugged the phone to my chest before putting it back in my bag.
“Man, I’m tired!” I yawned again and stretched.
“I’m not. I’m very unsatisfied. But not to worry,” she smiled wickedly. “I’ve arranged a treat for us!”
I silently groaned. What next?
When we returned to her bolthole, she made an instant beeline for the shower. When she finally emerged, she was wrapped in one of the hotel’s luxurious bathrobes. I was about to shower myself, when I realised that I didn’t have any clean clothes with me. I took a quick shower anyway, but it’s never nice to get back into your dirty clothes again afterwards, especially after dancing energetically in them for hours.
While I was in the bathroom, I heard voices and when I came out saw that Lily had ordered two bottles of Dom Perignon from room service.
“More champagne? Don’t you think you’ve had enough already?”
“No, I don’t! You sound like my fucking mother-in-law,” she said, sullen. Defiantly she popped the cork and poured herself a large glass. She was still in her bathrobe, her feet bare and her long dark hair hanging down damply around her shoulders. She had removed her makeup and jewellery and looked fresh and young. Not at all like the old hag that I was feeling at the moment.
There was a gentle knock on the door and Lily jumped up excitedly.
“Oh goodie!” she squealed and rushed to the door to open it. Two tall, attractive, toned and smoothly brown young men walked in. Both wore good quality hip clothes. One had wild curly black hair and startling green eyes and the other had brown hair, sun-kissed with blond streaks, and soft brown eyes. Lily fussed around them, stroking their arms and touching their faces. She turned to me, grinning eagerly.
“I’ve ordered us some party boys!”
Male hookers! I stared at them, not sure what to say. Pleased to meet you? The black-haired one licked his lips lasciviously while running his hands down his body.
“You wanna piece of this?” he asked me, grabbing his crotch and thrusting it in my direction. I guess he was trying to be seductive, but it came across as extremely vulgar and off-putting.
“No!” I said, backing away. Then I remembered my manners. “Thank you.”
“Oh come on, Tilly,” begged Lily. “I ordered one for each of us. We could have a foursome. We could do each other. I’d love to do you. I’d love to watch them doing you. Don’t be such so fucking frigid!”
“I’m not frigid, Lily,” I protested, secretly repulsed by her suggestion. “I just know that Heller would be very angry with me if he found me partying on the job. I’m sorry, but you have to remember that I’m working.”
“Suit yourself,” she retorted in a nasty voice. “Leaves more for me.” And with that, she flounced off to the bedroom, seizing both bottles of champagne and dragging the two men along with her.
The rest of the evening passed very slowly for me. I turned on the TV, flicked through the channels and found an old Hitchcock movie to watch. But the laughter, thumping, moaning and orgasmic screaming coming from the bedroom was very distracting, and I didn’t take in much of the complicated plot. After a few hours, the brown-haired man staggered out of the bedroom, completely naked, and flopped down heavily in one of the armchairs.
“She’s sent me out to order more champagne. God, she’s draining me dry! I need a break. She’s completely insatiable.” He slumped back in the chair, closing his eyes. I felt sorry for him. He looked knackered.
“I was about to make a cup of tea. Would you like one?” I offered. He nodded gratefully and I went into the kitchenette to boil the water. My phone rang. Heller again. Who else rang me ten times a day?
“Hey Boss.”
“How’s everything?” he asked.
“I’m making a cup of tea for a naked man,” I said nonchalantly, reaching for the mugs and teabags.
A significant silence. “Why are you with a naked man, Matilda?”
I poured the boiling water into the two mugs. “You don’t want to know. Really.”
“I do want to know. Really.”
“You’ll be shocked.”
“I’m impossible to shock.”
“Lily has ordered up two party boys, and she is, and I quote, ‘draining them dry’.”
“Oh. I don’t want to hear any more."
“I told you that you’d be shocked.”
“I’m not shocked, I just don’t want to hear any more. You’re not participating in this, er, activity, I hope?”
“Heller! Of course not! Why do you think I’m out here making the tea?”
Another pause. “Good. I’ll see you tomorrow, Matilda.”
We hung up. I added milk and spooned some sugar in the man’s tea, thought about it and added a few more spoonfuls. The poor guy probably needed some glucose. I carefully carried the mugs out.
“Are you going to order more champagne for her?”
“No,” I replied. “She’s had enough.”
“You better be the one to tell her then.”
I nodded and sipped my tea. There was an awkward silence. “So, have you been in this line of work for long?” I asked politely.
“Couple of years,” he said. “The money’s good and it’s not too demanding. I’m only doing it until I can catch my break as an actor.”
You and me both, honey, I thought bitterly. I placed my mug on the coffee table and leaned forward. “Look, this is a very personal question and you can just tell me to go jump if you like, but I’ve always wondered. It’s not, um, easy for a man to fake sexual arousal. Much easier for a woman I would think. How do you . . .”
“How do I get it up?”
“Yeah. Sorry, that’s too personal, isn’t it? You don’t have to answer. I’m far too nosy for my own good.”
He smiled nicely. “I don’t mind answering. I’m an actor, right, so I’m good at faking emotion. I think of it as a test. I pretend it’s a director telling me to get it up now for a scene, so I get it up.” I nodded. It made sense. “Also, I’m twenty-two so I’m naturally horny most of time anyway.” He cocked his head in the direction of the bedroom. “She’s easy ‘cause she’s young and pretty. It’s the older ones who are the hardest. I once had this client who had never had an orgasm in her life and she was about sixty. It took me all night, but we finally cracked it. She was real grateful. Gave me a huge tip.”
“I can imagine! So you do women exclusively?”
“Yeah, I only do ladies. Neil, the guy in the bedroom, he swings both ways. Probably gives himself more options that way, but I can’t do guys. Just not interested. I’ve tried, but –”
There was a sudden fracas from the bedroom. Lily shrieked in fear, and a man’s voice rose in anger. I jumped to my feet. I turned to Br
own Hair and ordered him firmly to stay exactly where he was. He wasn’t inclined to disagree, busy enjoying his tea and enjoying the break.
I approached the bedroom cautiously. Lily shrieked again. When I pushed open the door and walked in, she was cowering naked on the bed. The black-haired man, Neil, was also naked and was leaning over her waving a small sharp knife. Oh shit! I thought, realising with panic that it was completely up to me to get this situation under control. Remembering what Tysen had told me, I tried to appear authoritative. I held out one palm to Lily and one to Neil, like a cop directing traffic.
“Whoa!” I said loudly and decisively. Lily whimpered and curled up further. I stepped closer to the bed and Neil leapt towards me, waving the knife threateningly. I stood still. “Everyone stay where they are. Nice and calm. No sudden moves.”
I pointed at Neil. “You! Back off slowly into that corner.” Surprisingly, he did what I’d ordered. “I’m going to ask Lily to get off the bed and come closer to me. Okay, Neil?”
He nodded, but brandished the knife again, as if afraid I was going to rush him. He had a crazy look in his eyes that I didn’t recognise, but knew it spelt danger.
Neil had all the power at that moment, so I addressed my comments to him. I could see that Lily was superficially unharmed as she scrabbled off the bed and stood behind me.
“Okay Neil, why don’t you tell me in a calm way what’s going on? You seemed as though you were having a pretty good time till now. What’s gone wrong?”
He pointed the knife at Lily. “That crazy bitch is trying to kill me!” he shouted, spittle flying from his mouth.
Lily scoffed, her arms folded under her small breasts, one hip cocked forward aggressively.
“You dumb fuck!” she spat out scornfully. “I told you I didn’t want to kill you. I just wanted to cut you a little.”
I twisted her way, incredulous. “What the hell, Lily? What do you mean you wanted to cut him? You can’t go around cutting people.”
She licked her lips. I noticed the crazy look in her eyes too. Damn. They’ve been doing drugs. I quickly searched the room and noticed a baggie of powder on the bedside table.
“I only wanted to taste his blood.” She licked her lips again.
“I told you! I told you!” Neil exploded. “She’s a crazy bitch! Keep her away from me!”
“Oh man, do you know how stupid that is, Lily?” I ranted. “You don’t just suck people’s blood, especially a prostitute’s blood! He screws men, Lily! Probably without protection. Do you want to catch a disease? Do you want HIV? Or hepatitis?”
“Hey!” Neil protested. “I’m an escort, not some cheap street whore! I’m clean. There’s nothing wrong with my blood.”
“I paid for a party boy and he wouldn’t party,” Lily pouted.
“You paid for his body, not for his blood!” I screamed at her. “If you wanted blood, you should have agreed upfront and paid extra! Or found some weirdo vampire hooker.”
I’d had enough of this and turned back to the knife-wielding man. “Neil, here’s the deal. I’ll keep her away from you. You drop the knife on the bed, pick up your clothes and you and your buddy get the hell out of here. Have you been paid?”
He nodded his head. “She paid in advance by credit card. It comes up on her statement as ‘personal grooming services’.”
“Good. Okay then, leave the knife on the bed and scram.”
He paused for a moment, watching me with suspicion, but then slowly placed the knife on the bed and snatched up his clothes, edging out the door. I quickly secured the knife and stood aside to let him leave.
“Hold it,” I demanded, and walked over to the baggie. I picked it up with the edge of the sheet. I wasn’t getting my fingerprints on that. I made sure it was secured and tossed it to Neil. “Here’s your tip.”
“Hey! I paid for that!” Lily screeched. “That’s my shit! You are not giving it to that motherfucker!”
I stared her down. “Either you donate it or I flush it. Understood? You want to go to jail?” I waved Neil away and could hear him and the other man dressing hurriedly, before slamming the door behind them.
Lily plonked down on the bed, her face sullen. “I was wrong about you. You’re nothing but a fucking bore. Get me some more champagne,” she ordered.
“No. You’ve had enough. You’re going to bed,” I snapped back, reaching my breaking point.
“Fuck off, bitch!” she snarled and lunged at me. We tussled for a brief moment and she spat in my face, her saliva dripping down into my eye, disgusting me and blinding me temporarily. She snatched the knife off me, and before I knew what was happening, sliced me down the soft flesh on the inside of my left forearm. Blood spurted instantly from the wound. She dropped the knife and quickly grabbed my arm, bringing it to her lips and sipping on my blood.
I pushed her away violently in revulsion with my other arm. She fell back heavily against the wall and slid down, sprawling indecently on the floor. She was laughing and laughing, my blood staining her lips and teeth and trickling down her chin. I wrapped my injured arm in the first thing I found, Lily’s discarded micro-dress, trying to stem the rapid flow of blood, thinking a little hysterically that it didn’t matter if I bled on the dress because it was already blood-coloured. Lily suddenly stopped laughing, rolled over on her stomach, pushed herself up onto all fours and started vomiting onto the carpet. When she had finished, she fell face first onto the floor into her own vomit. I almost cried in despair.
Somehow I managed to rouse her, stand her in the shower to clean her off and get her dried. I ignored my wound, which was still bleeding and throbbing badly. I didn’t know what she’d taken, probably coke, but put her into bed in the recovery position so she wouldn’t choke if she threw up again. I’d not even bothered trying to get her to drink any water. She was almost unconscious and fell into a heavy sleep the minute I dragged her onto the bed. I cleaned up the vomit as best I could and resigned myself to paying through the nose for the extra cleaning that would be required.
At that moment, I hated that woman sleeping on the bed, but it was my job to look after her. I had no choice but to sit on the bedroom chair, determined to stay awake until she woke safely and I could take her back to her husband. I felt lightheaded, but wasn’t sure if it was from the lack of food, loss of blood or complete emotional and physical exhaustion. I slumbered fitfully in the chair. The room smelt awful, an overpowering mix of vomit, alcohol, lubricant and sex, but I couldn’t leave her alone. I longed to ring Heller, but was afraid I was too emotional to speak professionally. I was also afraid to admit to him that he had been right and that I hadn’t been able to handle the situation properly. I didn’t want to be fired for screwing up my first real assignment.
At midday, Lily woke up, groaning and clutching her stomach. I struggled to assist her to the bathroom, where she vomited repeatedly into the toilet bowl. I watched her dispassionately before helping her into the shower again. I could hear my phone ringing, but I was fully occupied at that moment and concentrated on getting Lily cleaned up. We re-dressed her in her modest clothes and she greedily gulped down a bottle of cold spring water. We didn’t speak to each other once. I didn’t even want to make eye contact with her.
I packed up all of her belongings and shoved them carelessly into her oversized handbag. My arm was still bleeding and I swapped the sodden micro-dress for one of her head scarves as a dressing. I didn’t know what to do with the blood-soaked dress, so shoved it in the bottom of the rubbish bin, covering it up with the other detritus. I pulled my shirt-sleeve down and gingerly put my jacket on, needing to look respectable until I could get home. I went into the bathroom and was shocked to see how pale and drained I appeared. Makeup couldn’t completely disguise it.
We caught the lift to the foyer and I made her sit down while I checked out. I paid the bill and advised the clerk that my friend had been ill in the bedroom and that extra cleaning would be required. Professionally trained for all situations, sh
e didn’t even blink. She ordered a cab for us and it arrived in less than ten minutes. Lily spent the cab ride leaning against the window, green with illness. We finally arrived at her suite at the luxury hotel, where the servant greeted us at the door anxiously. Fortunately I had rung him last night to advise him that Lily wouldn’t be home, but was staying with me instead.
“Mr Hayek has advised me that he is on his way back now,” he told us, before noticing how sick Lily looked.
“Mrs Hayek is not feeling well,” I said, stating the obvious. “Stupidly, we bought a kebab to eat from a sidewalk vendor after we went to the movies. She’s been sick all night. She was too sick to bring home, so that’s why I took her to my place which was closer.”
“Tilly warned me not to get the chicken kebab, saying it didn’t look cooked enough. But I didn’t listen to her. It smelled so delicious,” Lily piped up weakly, clutching her stomach again. I had to admire her. Even feeling like death, she rose to the occasion.
“Oh, you poor thing,” fussed the servant.
“I’ll put her to bed,” I said to him, “and you should call the hotel doctor to come and examine her. Just to make sure she’s going to be okay.” He rushed off to the phone while I took off Lily’s shoes and scarf and settled her in her enormous king-sized bed. I brought her a cold bottle of Perrier and sat on the regency winged-back chair to wait for the doctor. She bustled in, gave Lily a cursory examination and pronounced her dehydrated, but otherwise on the mend. She left a prescription for a painkiller and advised Lily to rest and drink water regularly.
While the servant set out to have the prescription filled, I waited in the bedroom with Lily in silence. She sat up, wincing, and looked at me remorsefully.
“I’m sorry Tilly,” she apologised. “Things got a bit crazy last night. I can’t really remember much. Thank you for getting me home safely.”
I glanced at her and then looked away. I wasn’t in the mood for chatting. My arm was throbbing painfully and I badly wanted to go home. The servant and Mr Hayek returned at the same time. We went through the dodgy kebab ruse again for Mr Hayek’s sake and I returned Lily to his care. I made a hasty farewell and headed down to the foyer.